


Diseased Nyctophilia

by ScissorSheep



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: (Between Anti and Dark), Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Character Study, Consensual Violence, Dark/Random bar girls, F/M, Knifeplay, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex, Sex and Gore, There is straight sex in this as well, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScissorSheep/pseuds/ScissorSheep
Summary: "You gave yourself to me so prettily… What do you think he’ll look like spread beneath me while I fuck his insides out? You think he’ll scream when I shove your pretty meat deep in his belly? Will his toes curl with pleasure as I mimic you embracing him? You think he’ll fall apart at the seams when the parasite in his body rots his innards and floods through the threshold of his mind? He’ll break far quicker than you did. His bones will shatter and his blood will boil with Anti… You think he’d squirm if I killed in front of him? Or perhaps he’d squirm and scream if I soaked him in stolen blood?"~~~Dark, after years of slowly whittling down everyone's hero, finally infests the fleshy walls he'd been conditioning. With his newest gift, Dark seeks out his companion, stretching and burning Mark's human morals on the way.Alternatively titled, Dark brings the world to it's knees.





	1. Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> !!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!  
>  (Blood, Gore, Death (not Jack/Anti or Mark/Dark), Murder, Sex and gore, Psychological trauma.)  
> -I'd say sorry but I'm not lmao-
> 
> Do not read this without reading ALL of the tags. (Seriously, Please read and pay attention to the tags, if one of the tags rubs you the wrong way, odds are you will not like this fic. I won't be responsible for triggering people, you have plenty of opportunities to escape lmao.)
> 
> Second of all, I understand that Septiplier is not real. I've made this simply to express my creativity. DO NOT tag the boys in this. I have nothing but utmost respect for Amy and Signe.
> 
> And if you are still here after all of that, WHOOOOO boy. Buckle up.

_You’re such a good boy…_ The voice whispers from the depths of madness. His voice is sharp with aggression, laced with a silky deep tenure. It causes Mark’s skin to peel from his muscles, shivers rolling down his skin settle in the pit of his stomach. Mark had been fighting for such a long time, he was tried, bones filled to the brim with exhaustion. He wanted to give up, hand the crown to much more capable hands. He was desperate to give in to the voices, the seductive enchanting voices that so sweetly were lulling him into submission with milk and honey.

What would happen if he did let go?

 _You’d be safe in my hands little lamb… You’ve tried so hard to be everyone’s hero_ … The voice delves deeper through Mark’s mind, buries itself in his suppressed desires. It’s such an addictive feeling, it causes euphoria to chase the dark clouded thoughts from his mind. It’s a destructive, seductive power the voice is using against him.

 _Baby… Just let go… Let your anger overwhelm every molecule in your body. Let such a perfect siren song seep through the cracks of your brain… Drink from the milk and honey… Let go…_ The voice soothes, and Mark jumps at the sensation of someone else rubbing his cheek soothingly.

 _I know I’ve showed you some horrible things… I’ve been so cruel to you…_ The voice lulls and Mark runs his tongue over the bottom of his plump lips, something was breathing against his lips.

_But I won’t do that anymore… Do you trust me…?_

“No…” Mark whispers and swallows deeply against the lump in his throat. It takes him a full minute before he finds his voice again, when he does speak again, his voice is trembling. “I don’t trust you… But you know every corner of my mind… You know I’ve become desperate trying to lock away my anger…”

 _You’re right… Because I’ve combed through your human flesh, I’ve infected every molecule you own… I’ve drained your strength… invaded your heart… Analyzed your desires…_ Mark chases the sensation of lips against his own.

 _You have nothing left. Let me take it all away._ The voice is much firmer, and a rather pitiful moan slips past Mark’s lips in response. _Feed me, dearest…_ The voice continues, voice far huskier then before. Mark knows there is no other person in the room with him, but he revels in the sensation of lips pressing firmly into his own. It’s an aggressive kiss, the presence is claiming his flesh, learning the sensitive workings of his body.

Mark melts into the voice, feels an exquisite rush of pleasure pool in the base of his stomach. It’s such a wonderful sensation, his muscles are so tight with anticipation, overwhelming his every thought and action. The voice is pouring thick honey deep inside his ears, such sweet praise and Mark cums untouched, arching his back beautifully. The presence invades his every essence in that one moment. The seed of darkness in Mark’s chest explodes with energy, and his body is no longer hosting one. Mark feels such an overwhelming panic rush through him at the realization, but it just causes him to cum harder.

“Ohh…” Mark stutters, drawing a deep breath inside his fluttering lungs, hips canting into the sensation he knows isn’t physically there. It’s a deep and white hot pleasure that infects the very deepest, spongiest corners of his mind.

_Call out my name… You know who I am, don’t you?_

Mark is no longer the only conscience in his fleshy squishy walls.

“Oh baby you won’t regret giving me such a delicate gift…” Mark’s own voice fills the air, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same sweet bravado that the glass eyes captured every day. The parasite smiles and settles into borrowed skin. Oh he’d waited for this moment to pass reality for _years_. He’s certainly not the most patient of people, the sensation of Mark submitting completely, surrendering his flesh, birth’s an itch that demands attention.

Dark feels his borrowed lips stretch into a rather satisfied, yet somehow lazy smile. Humans were weak, malleable, and impressionable. Their morals held no sanction in his realm, their pitiful emotions held no place in his existence. It was time to play. Should he burn this realm to the ground in the process, then be it so.

 _Little lamb… Can you hear me?_ Dark reaches out to his host, he yearns for proof that their body still held two souls. Dark could feel the torrential rage smoking piping hot in his borrowed chest. His host’s infected soul still clung to it’s delicious corpse.

 _Little lamb… You fought me for far too long… Yet here we are…_ Dark continues, the silence in his mind is rather numbing, yet he continues to speak with Mark. _Answer me._ Dark practically purrs out his demand as he makes his first steps over to the mirror hanging against the wall. Mark is starring back at him. Chocolate orbs are far too calm for Dark’s liking.

 _What do you want…?_ The shell of a man mumbles, and in an almost shy manner, he turns away from his foil. Embarrassment broils his cheeks a beautiful rosy color. It’s a rather pretty shade of shame that envelops such supple flesh.

“The same thing you long for in your dreams. The same thing that haunts your every waking thought…” Dark feels his chest tighten involuntarily, it’s a reaction that belongs entirely to his host.

 “I want the person that makes you itch with need. The person that causes you to ache so urgently and pleasantly… I want to kiss his skin… fuck him so sweetly.” Dark feels a pang of longing that is his own, and a hot flash of anger that invades his every pore. This anger is the catalyst that he used to absolutely wreck his fleshy host.

 _Don’t touch him!!_ Mark growls aggressively, his reflection is tormented with the idea of his foil getting anywhere close to the object of his intense desires. Mark’s rather pitiful mirrored reflection slumps in absolute defeat. He places his hands against the mirror’s edge. _Anything but him…_ It’s a rather soft and pillowed voice filled with absolute submission, Dark can’t help but smirk wickedly in reply.

“You have no idea do you?” Dark laughs, and redirects his attention to the man in the mirror. _You’re not the only one with a parasite in their skin…_ Dark adds, speaking directly to Mark through their shared connection rather than aloud. Dark grins ravenously at his reflection.

_Do you think he’s the only object I will encapsulate and wreck? You think my desires are so singular? I want to tear skin from the flesh of a human, watch the life seep from their glassy mirror eyes._

Mark feels an absolute sense of dread simmer through his mind, it’s a rather strange sensation to feel every ounce of his emotions rather than bodily experience his emotions.

_You gave yourself to me so prettily… What do you think he’ll look like spread beneath me while I fuck his insides out? You think he’ll scream when I shove your pretty meat deep in his belly? Will his toes curl with pleasure as I mimic you embracing him? You think he’ll fall apart at the seams when the parasite in his body rots his innards and floods through the threshold of his mind? He’ll break far quicker than you did. His bones will shatter and his blood will boil with Anti… You think he’d squirm if I killed in front of him? Or perhaps he’d squirm and scream if I soaked him in stolen blood?_

Dark feels such a revolting sensation roil up through his chest, he succumbs to the feeling, letting Mark’s anger fill him to the brim. Dark lets their shared amalgamation of emotions ebbing from his innards, fuel his core. A rather disturbing emotion manages to outshine the rest, and Dark knows. He’s always known, his obsession and need for companionship was born from that very same bright feeling.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Dark whispers, his voice permeating the air in a manner that demands full attention despite lacking in volume. Dark’s borrowed bones are singing with the exhilaration of control, he knows Mark like no other. He knows exactly which buttons to press in order to garner his desired response.

 _You don’t know him like I do._ Mark responds, his voice is firm, resolute, and Dark let’s out a rather throaty laugh.

“You do realize that I’ve lived through every year of your life that you’ve known him? I know every thought you’ve had about him, every pent up desire. I know everything. I know that the emotion you try so hard to swallow around him is love.” Dark grins rather salaciously into the mirror before continuing. “Do you think Jack would scream your name out of fear or pleasure, if I plunged a knife deep inside his body? Do you think he’d quake and fall apart if I used his body as a pin cushion?”

 _You can’t harm him. Not while I’m inside of you. I won’t let you. You may have me now, and I know I willingly gave you control, but that doesn’t mean this flesh will hold you forever._ Mark whispers through their connection, his gaze is still directed toward the ground in which he has no actual capability to physically see.

Mark wanted this. He wanted someone else to use his skin, step away from the spotlight and be done with everything. He wanted nothing more than to cave into the ridiculously seductive siren song that his anger would lull him towards. What he never intended was involving other people. He knew the deep and dark desires that longed to be fulfilled hidden away in the forgotten pieces of his mind. He knew that the darkness called to him. The sensation of having to physically tarnish the urge to cave in, was exhausting.

So he caved in to the delirious voice in his mind.

Mark had never fathomed that Jack would somehow end up involved in such a beautiful disaster. The game had changed now, and Mark wanted nothing more than to resume control, before things reached their crashing peak. Mark knew that Dark would stop at nothing to accomplish his goals. Because it was the piece of himself that he’d so desperately kept under lock and key for far too long.

“I Will destroy everything you’ve built up, rip it to little bits and pieces in front of you. You can try to block out the sensations, the burning urge to look away, but the more you detach yourself from me, the easier it becomes to maneuver your flesh,”  Dark’s distorted voice breaks Mark’s dangerous veil of thoughts.

“You wanted this… Came so prettily as I made my home beneath your skin…” Dark’s voice is slightly distorted, his eyes flashing a dangerous black as the reflection in the mirror finally reflects himself only. Soft sparks of pleasure skirt across his borrowed nerves as he slowly rubs the flesh across his own chest, acquainting himself with the marvelous sensation of touch.  “I’m going to skin them alive, rip open their flesh until blooms of pretty red scarlet flowers streak across your floors...” Dark rumbles dangerously low and his wandering hands caress across Mark’s incredibly sensitive nipples.

The rose pink flesh hardens slightly as the rather mild sensations fuel a darker seed planted about a millennia ago. Dark felt lust lance down his spine, the mere thought of committing such a heinous act created bubbles of deranged pleasure to burst in random intervals deep within the chasm of his shared mind.

“I’ll show you just how irrelevant your precious morals are… I will wreck this mind of your until you break. You’ll break so fucking hard you’ll live up to what I am… You’re brilliant little cesspool of a mind gave birth to me…” Dark allows words to almost caress the air, his voice is quivering, and it’s by no means a display of submission, but rather a wicked satisfaction with just how well this turned out.

“Let’s go visit your dearest shall we?” Dark sneers, lips twisting into a malicious grin. “I’m sure Anti will be ready…”

And Dark receives no reply.

Mark is just so tired, a rather pathetic sob manages to wiggle its way through the bumps and ridges of his own mind. Dark pays it little mind.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say. This is why I really shouldn't write Dark/Anti any more lmao. (We haven't even gotten to any really bad bits yet) I really wanted the first chapter to focus on Dark so yeah.
> 
> WELL
> 
> Let me know if you guys want more of this, love it? hate it? This won't be very long, maybe three chapters at most, we'll see.


	2. Charlotte Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always please note that all of the tags apply still!  
> (Shit gets very real in this chapter, so if blood and gore triggers you, and you don't like straight sex, skip this chapter)

“It’s alright darling, I’ll wait until you get out, if you want to have some fun later that is…” Dark grins rather salaciously at the rather well-endowed woman working behind the bar counter. He’s currently twirling a drink stirrer absently into the cocktail the killer babe of a bartender had recommended and prepped just for him. The name tag perched delicately against the curve of her breast reads ‘Charlotte’. Dark makes sure to take a mental note of her name for later.  
  
This woman is exactly Dark’s type, she’s a thick curvy girl with a rather plump and voluptuous features, fair skin, all complimented by medium black jagged cut hair, with purple bangs. It’s not just her tempting body that draws Dark immediately to her however, It’s her eyes. Charlotte’s peepers are a bright sky blue with deeper blue flecks speckled haphazardly across her glassy orbs. Not to mention the fact that her eyes were remarkably similar to Jack’s.  
  
Charlotte groans at him, and rolls her eyes slightly.  
  
“Keep telling yourself that you’re going to get lucky. Maybe one day it will work for you big boy.” She chastises him like a child, and her lips pull into a rather seductive smirk. Dark can’t help but mimic her expression. He knows that she’s his in this moment. Her voice is a rather sweet middle tone, it’s very pleasant. Dark just knows she’s going to put up one hell of a fight later. “Had any success?” She inquires, her face is curled into a rather amused form as she starts to dry some of the glasses just to keep herself busy.  
  
Dark finds himself glancing around the bar absentmindedly while contemplating the best approach to her question, it’s almost empty, and he knows that Charlotte is getting ready to close for the night. Dark can sense two people in the back (chefs most likely) and one other patron, currently huddled in one of the corner booths. Dark senses something familiar in the air, but can’t seem to put two and two together. It doesn’t matter, the conditions are perfect. Perhaps this familiar pull, was simply a figment of his overly excited mind. It didn’t matter. Dark felt himself prickling with irritation the longer he thought about it.  
  
So he doesn’t.  
  
He makes his decision.  
  
Dark is tired of waiting, his skin is already flushed and pulsing with anticipation, his body is thrumming with a violent ripple of pleasure. It’s the mere thought that is bringing him to the brink of snapping.  
  
 _Don’t do it!_ _Don’t you dare! What has she done to you?_ Mark is panicking at this point, if Dark managed to seduce this woman, he knows this would be victim number one. Mark had been completely silent up until this point. There is nothing Mark can do to stop what has begun to transpire.   
  
Dark simply laughs at his host’s comment, he masks it as a casual response to Charlotte’s question.  
  
“I need whatever happens to pique my interest, and I get whatever I need.” Dark provides cryptically, yet eagerly, his legs are bouncing up and down while his nails dig crescent moons deep into the wood of the bar counter. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to suppress such an overwhelming anticipation. To have something so close, yet so far, is much to tantalizing for Dark to handle. His cheeks are flushed, pulsing with a strange intoxicating mix of arousal and anger.  
  
“Ok, hotshot. I’m sure you owe your success to the fact that you look like that one big YouTube star.” Charlotte grins and leans into Dark’s personal space over the counter, pressing her breasts together. “I can’t see what else people would see in you.” She hums and drags a nail down Dark’s chest. Dark’s nostrils flair, his breath hitching softly as he locks eyes with this woman. The way her toes curl, the way her lips pull into a self-satisfied smile, everything she does in this one moment, exponentially arouses Dark. A deep growl rumbles through his chest.  
  
This woman had no idea who she was dealing with.  
  
Dark liked to play with his food after all.  
  
 _Hear that? She knows who you are…. I think I’m going to have fun with her after all…_ Dark remarks. This girl knew exactly who his host was. Killing this girl would be the most satisfying experience since he had assumed control in this body. _You wanted this._ The reminder leaves a rather sick feeling in the pit of Mark’s mind.  
  
“What if I told you I was that big YouTube star?” As soon as the words have fluttered past his lips, Dark feels a searing hot rage seep into every pore of his body. Dark’s seeing red, his mind clouded with such a sheer pleasure. Such a rapid change in emotions encompasses Dark completely.  
  
“Oh baby, please. You may look like him, but I doubt you’ll be as good as him.” Charlotte’s voice is an icy whisper against Dark’s lips.  
  
The next moment is a complete blur, Dark is panting heavily against Charlotte’s lips, his hand is a vice grip against her fluttering windpipe, he’s crushed her against the various alcohol bottles lining the shelves behind the counter.  
  
Dark had never been the most patient being.  
  
“Oh… You just have no idea how much I want to be inside you right now…” Dark’s voice is a deliciously deep honey against her silky petal ears. He tightens his grip on the porcelain doll in his grip.  
 _  
To hell with pleasing everyone.  
  
_ “Then fill me up bad boy…” Charlotte whispers, her voice is steady, trusting. Dark presses harder against her throat, squeezing tightly.  
  
 _To hell with your inexplicable morals.  
  
_ So he claims this woman. Dark is ripping into her clothes, popping the buttons on her jeans, caressing the softness of her belly. Before long Charlotte is free of her clothes, and Dark is biting possessively into her neck, the flesh rips so easily and Dark’s mouth is instantly filled with a coppery tang. Dark knows it’s far too deep when Charlotte whimpers against his neck, her body twitches violently against him, trembling against the conflicting sensations racing across the ridges of her mind. Every time she squirms Dark feels her hard nipples brush against his clothed chest. To make amends, he cups her sex, and pushes a finger gently against her clit.  
  
He fills the wound heavily with his poison, she’s instantly pliant, needy even as her body sings against his own.  
  
 _To hell with your reputation.  
  
_ “Ahhh… Fuck…” Charlotte’s knees buckle, and Dark falls with her, pushing the girl against the cold tiled floor behind the counter. Dark feels his own arousal swelling against his slacks. He holds so much power over this girl… Her blood felt thick and fulfilling against his taste buds. She was scared… heart racing as fast as a gazelle’s in the mouth of a cheetah.  
  
“I’ll make you scream baby, don’t worry…” Dark whispers against the profusely bleeding bite wound. Her thick elixir was starting to pool against the floor, and Dark had just begun. Such delicate porcelain skin was a bright pink were her life essence pooled out into the floor.  
  
“Do you want me to make the pain go away…?” Dark whispers, as he very slowly unbuckles his pants, freed of his binds, he rubs the head of his sex against her entrance.  
  
“Yesss…” She whispers, despite the pain searing through her shoulder, she’s more than happy to give herself up to him. He grants her no foreplay, and enters her sweetly. Her thick walls convulse and twist against the intrusion, she’s overwhelmed with the abruptness of it all. But she does nothing but gyrate her hips towards his own. “Fuck me silly…” She pants out against the cool air.  
  
The neon bar lights contrast heavily with the rather aggressive man above her.  
  
 _To hell with your humanity. Your sanity.  
  
_ One by one, he breaks her ribs, simply by placing an inhumane pressure against the delicate guardians of her inner organs.  
  
 _LEAVE HER ALONE!!!  
  
_ Mark does nothing but fuel Dark as he pushes himself deeper into Charlotte, her breathing is ragged weak and pathetic as she struggles to move her chest. His body exudes control, he’s feeding off of her energy, every single breath she exudes he absorbs greedily.  
  
The air is filled with electricity.  
  
“Break her.” Dark is instantly breathless. He knows this voice better than anyone.  
  
Charlotte’s voice is small, her desperate pleas hit nothing but deaf ears.  
  
“Watch me.” Dark growls, possessively as he reaches into his suit jacket, the object he pulls out is too obscure for Charlotte to properly have enough time to understand.  
  
The knife glitters in the neon lights for the briefest of seconds, before Dark runs it jaggedly over Charlotte’s throat. Her essence fills the air, and Dark breathes in the tiny droplets. Her blood is spurting up in every which direction, and Dark bathes in it.  
  
With an uncontrolled moan, Dark brings the knife down yet again, this time against her sensitive belly. More of the sweet elixir flows from the fresh gash, and Dark is twisting his hands deep inside her belly, using her pretty jewels to anchor himself into an impossibly tight heat.  
  
Death was rather unbecoming of Charlotte, but Dark revels in the feeling of her innards as they squish and squirm against his hands, and cock. Even in death the corpse he’s buried in is so deliciously tight and impossibly warm. He’s cutting into her skin haphazardly at this point, painting the entire bar with her blood. Dark is cloaked in her rose essence.  
  
“You couldn’t wait for me could ya…” A voice whispers against Dark’s neck.  
  
“No…” Dark chases the voice, his skin is aflame as pleasure broils through his borrowed flesh. “I knew you were here, I felt your presence earlier…”  
  
Faintly Dark hears the sound of sirens in the background.  
  
“Cum inside her.” Anti murmurs, transfixed on the desecrated corpse splayed against the floor.  
  
Dark doesn’t need to be told twice, with a few last thrusts, Dark cums deep inside Charlotte.  
  
As soon as Dark feels he’s recovered some semblance of self-control, he glances around the room. Anti is leaning against the bar counter, his sharp teeth are glittering against the bar lights.  
  
Dark reveled in his hideous crime, laughed even as the sirens wailing outside seemed to be blaring much louder.  
  
 _They won’t catch you just yet…_


	3. Reunited (At last)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Guys don't get mad it's just an April fools prank a new chapter will be added soon :) )


	4. Vicarious Slaughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry for the absence! I tried to sit down and write this chapter for about a month straight but I just couldn't get the sense of uneasiness and fucked up feeling until today. I had several drafts typed out and none of them satisfied me until I spent the time listening to a couple of darker songs to put me in the mood.
> 
> If you do not like gore, gtfo for real. It get's worse from here guys.
> 
> (I have no regrets)
> 
> Feel free to listen to You are the Blood by sufjan stevens while reading!  
> 

In a rather dizzying blur, for a few brief moments, Dark’s physical body had been taken apart atom by atom. The fact that his fleshy prison had been scrambled in the few brief moments in which it took to rematerialize at the place of his choice. The fact that his shared material had disintegrated and reformed in the span of a few milliseconds, had been a rather jarring experience. He was subject to the rules of being unbound from a body. Subject to the constant thrum and numbing pull from his plane of existence.  
  
The only thing that kept him ground and sane, was the rather cold yet well placed pale hand of none other than Anti.  
  
You see, beings such as Anti and Dark existed as a manifestation of a person. Gradually these beings form and exist in a plane similar to purgatory. While their original host and creator in a sense aged in human time, Dark was near a millennia old in his own plane. He had manifested and festered in a cesspool of time. When Mark had let his guard down for the first time and truly embraced the embrace of toxic anger, Dark had begun to make himself known.  
  
Dark was not bound by human constraints. He held the power to both possess, and move freely within the planes of existence within his reach. Theoretically, this included the ability to materialize a physical form at will. Which he had tested in the brief periods of his ability to sink his consciousness with Mark’s own.  
  
Dark craved his freedom.  
  
Dark craved the feeling of flesh simmering through his fingers, he craved the sensation of power and dominance over another being.  
  
Oh, how he craved physicality.  
  
Dark is pulled from his thoughts as his physical form begins to wrap his existence within its candy wrapper. Dark is pulled back into the world of living. Anti is by his side.  
  
The two drank in each other’s appearance, the apparition and reassembly of their material had caused a rather lethargic expression to adopt on both of their faces. Even though they held the power to move their physical frames at will, did not mean that the process would be very painless.  
  
Dark’s lips, torso, skin, very essence, had remained coated in deep crimson flowers of blood.  
  
The scent was intoxicating, and Anti felt himself leaning into Dark, his borrowed pheromones had begun to flare up at the sight of his disheveled companion.  
  
“How did you know to follow me…” Dark whispers out as soon as he is able to recollect the tiniest shred of awareness.  
  
“I will always follow you…” Anti whispers in return, burying his face in Dark’s neck, breathing in his scent, and the scent of life that stained his brunette companion.  
  
“Don’t patronize me.” Dark growls and wraps his shaking hand against Anti’s neck.  
  
He squeezed with no remorse.  
  
Anti’s eyes roll back into his skull, in submission he falls back against the ground beneath him, his eyes glazed in wonder and awe so brightly shine in the darkness that surrounds the two. They had returned to Mark’s house, and Anti was sprawled on the kitchen tiles.  
  
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you come up to me before I killed that _insignificant_ human _?”_ Dark’s face is rather hard to read at this point, his eyebrows are the slightest bit furrowed, but beyond the threatening hold he had against Anti’s throat, it was rather difficult to identify his mood.  
  
“I wanted to watch you. I wanted to watch you rip into her, pleasure her, expose the squirmy insides of her stomach.” Anti mummers simply as arousal lanced up and down his borrowed flesh.  
  
“I wanted to watch you fuck her lifeless…” Anti breathed out, before sharply inhaling, “I wanted to circumpose myself in her place…”  
  
The two of them had a chemistry like this since the day they had manifested and become aware of one another. Two deadly beings that absolutely wreaked with wicked intentions. It was beyond your normal type of evil, Dark was the epitome of a Sociopath with no regards for the ultimate culmination of human life. As such he had a rather fitting frame for what was called intermittent explosive disorder. Although he truly had no tie to human culture nor their labels for such behavior. He felt no need to psychoanalyze this well-known part of himself.  
  
“Don’t.” Dark growls out, as he lowers himself into Anti’s space. “Don’t say things you think I want to hear…” He squeezes with enough pressure to choke Anti’s next words from the tip of his tongue.  
  
After all Dark had been born from such deep-seated instability, it was only natural that anger was his rather outspoken characteristic.  
  
“I’m- trying to say…” Anti takes a deep breath, the sound is aspirated and causes a choked off whine to hang in the air. The sensation of his lungs inability to pull in the oxygen this flesh requires creates a rather mind liquefying lucidity of awareness.  
  
“I-I… want it…” Anti manages, his voice scratchy and soft, he feels the tendons in his neck as they squirm against each other, bruising each other, abusing the veins embedded within. “You…” He amends.  
  
Dark feels the absolute crushing sensation of his host’s emotions at the words.  
  
_He’s not who you want him to be… He’s just saying shit…_  
  
In this physical form, Dark could at any moment in time rip Anti’s body into pieces, shred the skin from his muscles, bleed him like a swinging carcass, and Anti would feel every ounce of pain lance through his body. Anti, frankly would be trapped. No human would have the endurance to live through such physical trauma. This flesh would decay without his essence.  
  
Anti felt his lips curl as an eager sense of reckless arousal grilled through his skin. He found please in the intense crushing pressure against his windpipe.  
  
Anti would give Dark everything.  
  
_Sean… This isn’t you…_  
  
_Oh… Sean, he makes you look so pathetic…_ Mark’s voice is soft, but the desperate undertones to his words came across loud and clear.  
  
_Sean…_  
  
_Sean…_  
  
Mark’s voice becomes a cadence in Dark’s mind at this point, a rather overwhelming wave of longing, want, manages to render Dark motionless. Dark all at once feels everything slip out beneath his feet, his hand goes slack against his prey’s supple flesh. In an instant Dark’s hand moves to the back of Anti’s neck, and Mark is pressing his lips soundly against Jack’s.  
  
“Don’t let him control you!” Mark nearly screams both in anguish and despair as he gazes back into Anti’s eyes. Their faces are inches apart, soft plinks of salted crystal pools cascade over Anti.  
  
Mark is taken aback by the resolute dead look in Jack’s face. Everything about his expression caused goosebumps to pepper delicately across his skin like a disease ravaging skin. Yet his tears continued to melt into Jack’s skin.  
  
_This wasn’t supposed to happen…_  
  
But oh did he want it to. Mark was eager to give his delicate glass canon life away.  
  
But Jack…  
  
Anti is caught somewhere between the fuzzy recesses of awareness and dizzy insanity. Between desperate intakes of oxygen Anti’s face slowly morphs into a resolute anger.  
  
“Bring Dark back.” Anti scowled venomously, his breathing, erratic and all at once Anti feels a nauseating rush of oxygen as he struggles to take it all in at once. With the threat of the black abyss pulling him into the realm of sugar blasted nightmares, Anti takes heaping gulps of air, desperate to keep his body from fainting.  
  
“Bring Dark back!!” Anti growls from his position on the floor, and after about a minute of steady breathing, Anti swings his whole body into Mark’s arm, resolutely making the man lose his balance. Without missing a beat, Anti squirms from underneath Mark and slips his supple thighs over the man’s waist.  
  
“Bring him back, or I will ride your fucking cock so deep inside my body, Dark will lose himself to jealousy.” Anti purrs, canting his hips downward, a wicked grin manages to twist the flesh of his borrowed skin as a rather desperate mewl managed to slip from the Korean’s lips. “Oh… wouldn’t it be grand? He’d rip both of us to pieces, rake a knife through my body and shred up all of this gushy mush…” With the sensuality of a god it seems, Anti slips his hands beneath his shirt, lifting it just above the hard peaks of his nipples.  
  
“He’d fuck out my insides… Bury his cock deep within my wounds… Cum inside me…” Anti cranes over Mark, a hot gush of air against their quivering lips gives fuel to the deadly fire brewing. “He’ll squish my organs and desecrate me… Chop me up and eat my flesh! Oh!” Anti inhales sharply at the thought, his nimble fingers ghost across his swollen nipples. The pleasure skating beneath the surface of his overheated skin causes Anti to grind his hips downwards. He does it again, and again and spirals into the cadence of his hips gyrating downwards.  
  
“Oh… my fuck…” A huge shuddering breath escapes Mark’s lungs. He can’t breathe properly, the anguish and the pleasure of the situation is creating a myriad of sensations to race across him all at once. “Ah-Jack!” Mark’s hips are moving of their own accord, brushing his swollen length against Anti’s, while their bodies move in tandem, their minds crave the other. Mark wants, craves Sean, he slips further into his own fantasy.  
  
“Dark please fuck me so good…” Anti practically begs as his hands immediately race down Mark’s torso, he’s gripping Mark firmly, squeezing pre-cum from his rosy tip. “Dark… desecrate me! Use me…” Anti’s voice tapers off into a whisper and Mark is ravaging his mouth in the next moment.  
  
Their lips slide in tandem together as they absolutely devour each other, when they part for air, Anti wastes no time and hastily starts to divest them both of clothes. It takes him all but 3 fumbled attempts before he’s able to free Mark’s engorged penis from its confines, and Anti wastes little time before showing two fingers deep within his pulsing, aching entrance.  
  
“Dark… Please!” Anti mewls, rolling back into his own fingers he lets out a deep growl of pleasure as he feels a third slick digit playing at his entrance. Mark is thrusting in tandem with Anti’s fingers until the parasite above him is a quivering pile of electric pleasure.  
  
They push and pull each other to the brink of orgasm, Mark simply festering in the way Anti moved. Mark had such a deep resolute _want_ for Jack.  
  
When they finally connect themselves, Mark cums almost immediately. The sensation and erotic tension pooling deep within the pit of his stomach completely busts. He’s exploding with pleasure, his body is dying, and Mark accepts the inevitable.  
  
Anti is laughing mercilessly as he chases his own pleasure through the other’s orgasm. Mark’s glans are sensitive and raw, he’s crying out from overstimulation, yet his hips cant to the brutal pace Anti sets for them.  
  
It doesn’t take long before the pain and pleasure mixture pulls Mark into the recesses of his own body. Robbed of physical being yet again, Mark let’s out a shuddering breath as the scorching hot bite of shame races through him. He’d been so desperate for affection.  
  
So desperate to feel Sean.  
  
The rough timbre that belongs to Dark manages to coerce Mark from his pitiful self-loathing for a brief moment.  
  
“You are only mine!” Dark snarls, before lifting the same knife he had used to butcher Charlotte out of his suit jacket. The serrated knife shreds through Anti’s hand like butter, his bones cracking and splintering against the mind-numbing strength the man above him possessed.  
  
Mark will never be able to forget the horrid screams that filled the air for the next five minutes. He could do nothing as he watched, petrified. Dark had chosen to share his senses with Mark. This was Dark’s nature in its purest form.  
  
“You belong to no one but me!!” Dark is snarling into Anti’s face, as he unsheathes the knife from Anti’s hand, he loses count of how many times the blade slips in and out of Anti. The kitchen is a sea of blood, and everything around them is red.  
  
Anti is screaming, squirming as Dark’s cock impales deep inside him, brushing his prostate on occasion.  
  
Eventually, Dark’s skin is drenched with sweat and exhaustion, his orgasm is slow, and with each white hot pang of pleasure, Dark feels laughter as it pools from his lips.  
  
“You want me to give everything to you. You want me to give you everything?” Dark questions, though he knows better. Anti is in no position to respond.  
  
In fact, his skin was rapidly cooling.  
  
Dark knew better.  
  
“Get the fuck up.” Dark bitches, as he stands and throws the ruined knife into the sink.  
  
For the first time in a long while, Dark felt a serene calmness wash over him at the dead silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, don't kill me, Anti is not dead. Second, I hope that Dark's absolutely wretched side is starting to make you guys feel a bit sick. That's the point! I want this to be unnerving, I want Dark to live up to his name. I want to absolutely nail this incredibly fucked up version of Dark.
> 
> In my mind he's the very epitome and embodiment of aggression, mercilessness, and absolute calm composed killer.
> 
> Anywhoo...


	5. Sanguine Mercurial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is for chelsea_chee who wanted to see a chapter with Jack's journey with Anti. I will be revisiting this concept throughout this story, But I wanted to provide some insight to his turning. As such this chapter mainly focuses on Anti.
> 
> I hope that Dark's sense of persuasion and such comes across later on as well. I love you all! <3

Anti is free falling in limbo space. Traversing through the marshes of his purgatory. The eternal realm in which he regretfully was pulled back into when not occupying a vessel. The soggy shores of the slim walkway his feet grace down upon is slick with the lukewarm infested waters of the damned. He’s solemn, irritated, and his blood is boiling with rage. He had worked so hard to use and abuse his vessel after all, yet here he was, stuck in this middle ground until his body had healed enough to return his consciousness. 

Heads of the countless souls trapped in his realm bobbed up and down beside the soggy marsh walkway, their faces twisted with the last moment in which they sucked in their dying breath. Some expressions were annoyingly calm, while others, seemed to paint a story of their passing. Anti found himself on good days, simply cataloging the various beheaded face’s expressions.

Anti had never liked it much here, the tendrils of other amalgamations tended to get mixed up a lot with his own. It was as if this realm had created its own massive mind, feeding on every host that graced its barren lands. The more time Anti wasted in this filth apocrypha of a land, staring at the bleak muck green/black abyss above his head and below, the more muddled his mind had become. His mind had begun to melt into the communal amalgamation of messy brains and blend into the constellations of other souls.

Anti feels his breath catch, he can feel the skin of his host trying to stitch itself together, trying to pull him back into the myriad of colors he’d existed in briefly. In that time, red had become his favorite color.

Red like the blood that pooled from nearly every crevice of his body. 

Like the time in which his host had scooped chunks of milky white skin from his body.  
~~~  
It was small the way things had started for Jack really. One moment things would be misplaced, one moment he would wake up in an unfamiliar location. Once or twice he had left the coffee machine on.

In all circumstances, Jack had acquitted each benign scenario to his self-induced insomnia. Because what else could it have been? Who in their most sane frame of mind would ever attribute such menial occurrences to a malignant being forcing its way into your psyche?

And then people started to point things out.

Jack would read comments on his most recent videos, scroll through Tumblr, Twitter, they were everywhere. People had seen a different side of him. If Robbin had noticed, he sure hadn’t said much. Jack couldn’t recall any point in which he acted strangely, but then again the blackouts and misinformation had become a crushing sense of unease with the quality of his content.

Jack wasn’t stupid. He would re-watch his videos, stare at the screen for what felt like hours, absolutely horrified with the person he felt staring back at him.

Jack had first become aware of his separate entity through outside sources. 

Then one by one the littler things started to make sense.

Jack couldn’t remember the first time he had started to hear voices. With the time he had spent alone with the voices, it was almost impossible to recollect any time in which he had not been subject to their constant drone. The voice wanted nothing but to be hurt. Jack had caught himself jolting into the land of oblivion with a knife poised against his wrist, panting, red-faced, aroused.

Jack’s morale was starting to slip, his content was gradually losing its spark, and everyone wanted to know; what was wrong with Jack?

Sean was running from the truth.

Running from his friends.

Who would have thought that a person with stellar mental health would kneel so low to near schizophrenic symptoms?

But he did, Sean was groveling as low as his knees could bring him into the very dirt he had built his entire life essence upon. Jack felt the crushing reality sink in all the much harder when he realized Mark had become such a distant figure. He wanted to reach out to his friends, but the voices kept the urge at bay and whittled the idea into an excessive amount of effort. 

Jack had embedded himself a pedestal down into the ground.

Just as he thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the universe had gifted him with visions, imaginary fairies riding off into the sunset, some of them would stay behind and move his furniture around. He would catch glimpses of blobs of melted flesh inching across his ceiling, crab creatures with eyes covering every inch of their exposed meat, shell. Eyes that would mold into the carpet, the walls in irregular patterns.

The crabs and eyes were the worst. Jack would curl up in his bed, debilitated with intense tryphophobic triggers. He could do nothing but see mutations of holes, even with his eyes closed. The voices would prolong his trigger period, wring him dry with panic. Eventually, Jack had noticed that the voices had melded into one.

There was the conductor of his madness at the helm of his mental wellbeing.

Eventually, the visions had become so real, Jack could no longer perceive reality from fiction.

And then the eyes had begun to bubble out from beneath his skin.

Jack broke.

Jack’s throat had been numb for days from the near constant screaming. He’d begun to claw angry red indents up and down every margin of reachable skin. The eyes were everywhere. They had infested his body, every crevice, every inch had blinking eyes staring down at him. Each time they blinked, his flesh would crease up and itch. Jack would scratch out the eyes embedded into his skin, but the more he ripped off, the faster the eyes would grow from beneath his skin to the surface.

Jack had covered every mirror in his house, covered his windows with black sheets, and broken everything that was reflective. The more he could physically see the deformations in his skin, the stronger the violent urge to rip his skin to pieces became.

Jack was never really the type to rely much on the physical needs of his body. In fact, the only way sleep would come to him, would be if he shut down completely in order to sleep. Beyond that, his basic needs had slipped to the back burner of his mind. 

Despite being weak from not listening to his body’s needs, Jack had more than enough strength to take a sharp melon baller to his skin and scoop the eyes straight from their root, out of the fleshy compartments they’d managed to form. Jack’s mental state was far shot, and despite the blood, he leaked everywhere around the house in which he managed to slip around, he managed to crawl into the kitchen of his apartment, divest himself of all of his clothes, and scoop out even more offending balls of flesh from his being. The sensation of sharp metal carving into his supple meat was at first painful.

By the time he was satisfied with the raw scoops in his body, Jack had begun to feel his skin tightening against the air. He’d been laid out freshly butchered, aching to be numbed out from the cold stinging whispers of air that drifted around him.

He’d left a trail of blood across the house, bumped into tables, knocked their contents to the ground. Jack had dragged his limp body through the glass pieces on the floor and embedded within his cuts they’d managed to form a home within his skin, each piece made the most delectable squelching noise.

Jack could feel his madness ebb through his mind like a thick winter’s storm, gradual, yet powerful upon reaching its destination.

Jack had laughed to high heaven, sanguine from the absolute bliss that roiled through his flesh as he slipped around in his own bodily fluids. It was only when he’d managed to sprain his wrist from slipping against the floor that he’d finally passed out.

Something had been keeping him awake, alive, and increasingly less lucid. Under normal circumstances, Jack would likely have been dead after ripping enough flesh on the inside of his leg that his femoral artery had squished out at least a pint of his blood.

Anti absolutely loathed the idea of infecting Jack that night. While in this human host, Anti was subject to each and every pain that washed against his very real flesh. Anti found little pleasure in basking in the rapid healing of his soon to be flesh. Rather, creating a masterwork of gore, was much more pleasing. Anti was a giddy school girl when it came to inflicting self pain and receiving pain. Because it managed to separate him from the hell hole of the marshes he’d lived in for far too long. His motivations were complex.

While to many people, Anti was nothing but a prattling fool, he remarkably was brilliant in piecing together different pieces to the necessary puzzles regardless of what situation he found himself in.

Anti had always been a fan of mind games, psychologically pinning someone done to their very innate and core qualities. He’d use them to his advantage, persuade them to bend to his will. Be it mortal or human. Until of course, Anti had met Dark.

Anti had finally managed to sink his parasite fangs deep into the neck of his victim, he was there to stay.

~~~  
Anti is pulled from his thoughts as his foot slips into the silky warm water. He’s panicking, thrashing around against the collective pressing their innermost intimate thoughts through his ear, infesting the inner tissues of his brain with a silky goop. He feels invaded, exhausted as he’s dragged deeper below the waters.

Anti’s mind wanders yet again, as the void sucked him deeper into the water’s surface.

The rush of tainted liquid filling his lungs to the very brim with no ounce of remorse caused his vision to go bleary, his skin to clam up against the torrent of water encapsulating his body from all sides. 

His thoughts once again fill with Dark.

Perhaps Anti had felt such an indescribable pull towards Dark due to the sheer willpower the demon managed to express. He had become a sense of finality. One in which Anti’s gimmicks had little to absolutely no effect on. If anything in a very roundabout way, perhaps Anti did get his wish. Dark had absolutely no qualms when it came to absolutely wrecking his companion, and Anti lived for the pleasure, he’d tasted it once, and wanted nothing more than to revel in the high it created with the inner depths of his own self.

Just like the water crashing against his supple skin.

The mere thought of Dark wrecking him again caused shockwaves of euphoria to race down his spine, where it joined the panic. The two sensations rolled across his shared spine, tethered together at the end, molded into a sculpture of bones ready for the taking.

And everything that he owned that could be taken would.

He’s pulled from his own apocrypha by the sensation of healed skin splashing together in an effort to repair the serrated open wounds against his vessels milky cream skin. All at once his lungs are free of their pollution, and he’s finally able to see the world in which he had stolen from his skin’s previous tenant. He’d forced his way into this realm after his companion.

Dark is standing across from him leaning against the kitchen counter, his eyes are rather calm, and his elbows are casually resting behind him against the eggshell counters. He’s elegant, suave, and the blood that speckles across his suit accents the harrowing black of his eyes.

“What took you so long?” Dark’s voice is surprisingly calm, his eyes are still bleak, his gaze is intense as he locks eyes with Anti.

“What took me so long? Are you sure you need to ask me that question?” Anti manages to growl out, standing on wobbling legs, he leans heavily against the kitchen island.

“I don’t think I stuttered. Why did you take so long to return to this body? You realize this flesh is fragile? If you had waited any longer, I would have been staring at a corpse.” Dark trails his fingers down his buttoned up shirt, one by one the buttons are freed from their confines. Then with the grace of a Greek god, the demon shrugs the offending article from his shoulders. 

Anti can’t help but trail Dark’s fingers with his heavy gaze.

As soon as the stained white shirt hits the glossy tiles below, Dark starts to circle the island in which Anti is perched against. His steps are precise, measured with purpose.

Anti is the one that ends their game of hide and seek, as soon as Dark is face to face with him, he clenches his hands as tightly as his healing joints will allow him. With a soft sigh, Anti connects his lips soundly with Darks.

Their breath mingles together, as their lips glide against each other. It’s almost sweet, the way their lips connect and reconnect with each other, their own little perfect puzzle pieces to their jigsaw lives. Anti takes a heaping gulp of breath as soon as their lips part.

It’s short, sweet, and makes every single borrowed fiber in his being stand on edge. He’d free falling from a cliff of euphoria, his heart is racing like a cheetah in the wild. They have an intimate moment of eye contact before Dark’s eyes return to normal.

“Let me show you my world Anti…” Dark mumbles against his companion’s neck as he cranes his head delicately in the cusp of his collar bone. “Let me give you what you so crave…” Dark is kissing soft trails up and down Anti’s neck, activating neurons firing down their destined pleasure points. Anti let’s out a high pitched moan, desperation fueled pants fill the minimal space between the two. “Will you let me show you…? Do you want this? Me?” 

“I do…” Anti breathes out heavily, his chest is seizing up as his emotions broil through his sensitive newly stitched flesh. “Break me into everything you need me to be. Break me while we break down the world. Suck the will from my flesh, eat me so sweetly, until I have no choice but to lean on you.” Anti manages to wheeze out against his increasingly tight chest muscles. “I want to watch the world burn down around you if you decide to burn it down. I want to taste the world you breathe in.”

And he truly means it. 

But Anti is not without conviction or reason…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! :D


End file.
